


#YODO

by prettyfaroutman



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party, Shipwrecked Comedy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyfaroutman/pseuds/prettyfaroutman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Looks like someone didn’t get the memo that this was supposed to be a game, and I’d bet forty-seven poop-filled ravens I know who it is.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	#YODO

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully if you're reading this you've already donated to the PoeParty kickstarter, but if not, [GO DO THE THING WHILE YOU STILL CAN!](https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1029702011/poeparty)

“Well, that was certainly rude!” Agatha scoffed as she stepped away from the crowd gathering around the body on the floor, toward the corner where Lenore lurked.

“Ugh, I know right? Looks like _someone_  didn’t get the memo that this was supposed to be a game, and I’d bet forty-seven poop-filled ravens I know who it is.” She glared across the room at Poe, who was stammering and trying to shield Annabel from the sight of the body.

Agatha shook her head as if to rid herself of a memory, her eyes still glued to the crowd. “Good lord. If I’d known poisoning was such a horrible way to go, I might have subjected fewer of my characters to that end.”

“Listen, Ags – can I call you Ags? – A of all? Do _not_ apologize for your writing. Your books are some of the only readable ones among the weirdos at this party. They’re all like ‘blah blah blah, let’s drink vodka and wander the moors while we contemplate the meaninglessness of life.’ And it’s like _ugh_ , are you really this boring? If I’m gonna go to the trouble to get someone to turn the pages of a book for me, I want to read about sociopathic spinsters poisoning their feckless nephews or whatevs.”

Agatha shrugged an acknowledgement.

“And B of all?” Lenore continued, “I’ve been to all the shadiest haunts in town, and the only ghosts I’ve met who don’t get over the pain of their death within, like, a couple hours are the losers with unfinished business. And like, of all the people at this party, you’re easily the most badass – obvs aside from me – so you’ll totes be fine.”

“Now you mention it, I do feel the pain beginning to fade…”

“See? Hashtag YODO!”

Agatha pulled her eyes away from the murder scene to glance at Lenore. “I’m sorry?”

“You only die once! And now you’ve got your whole afterlife ahead of you.” Lenore flipped her hair and put a hand on Agatha’s shoulder – or the ectoplasmic representation of her shoulder. “I can introduce you to some _supes_ hot ghouls, Ags. All we have to do is survive this godawful party first. Oh, whoops!” Lenore glanced back across the room to where the Constable was inspecting Agatha’s unmoving corporeal form and let out an embarrassed giggle. “I mean, you know what I mean, right?”

Agatha wasn’t sure how best to respond to this. Before she could decide, however, Lenore’s gaze had wandered over Agatha’s shoulder and curdled into a scowl. Agatha turned to see Poe standing beside her, gathering himself as if to give a speech.

“O rare and radiant maiden whom the ang–”

“Are you seriously pulling that again? Because that is _not_ the way to get on my good side. Besides, I thought you said you’d leave me alone after the hors d'oeuvre course.”

He cleared his throat. “Well… yes, that is, I… said… But circumstances require your assistance!”

Lenore cocked her hip. “Oh really?”

The other guests had begun to follow Poe, gathering in a loose, anxious cloud behind him.

“Yes, really,” Poe answered. “Constable Jim has been unable to ascertain the method… the motive? I can’t recall precisely what he said. But we thought perhaps you might have some connection to the spiritual realm that would assist in solving this grisly crime.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you didn’t poison her brandy yourself?”

“What?! Why would I… as a host…” He glanced at the guests now crowded behind him and blanched. “You know, just because I like to indulge… that is, have a penchant for the maca…bra? doesn’t mean–”

“Why do you even try to use that word?!”

“–Doesn’t mean that I would stoop to… _MURDER_.”

Even Agatha had to roll her eyes at that. She could see why Lenore had hated this haunt so much.

Lenore groaned. “Ugh, I am so over your drama! Just ask her yourself. Why do you need me to do it?”

Although she didn’t know who had poisoned her, Agatha expected the crowd to begin interrogating her at that suggestion, so she was surprised when an awkward silence descended for a beat and none of the guests looked to her. Poe and some of the other gentlemen broke the silence with nervous chuckles.

“So you’re suggesting we just…” Poe gestured to the body by the fireplace. “Ask her?” He laughed again, more heartily this time. “Mary, where are you? Perhaps you’d be willing to channel your good doctor to resurrect Ms. Christie’s corpse?”

Mary muttered “what even?” before Poe continued, gaining momentum. “Or Emily! You’ve spoken with Death before, yes? Perhaps he’ll _kindly stop by_ to allow us to chat with our dearly departed authoress?”

“You don’t want to know, Edgar,” Emily said tartly.

“Oh my _god_ you are insufferable!” Lenore huffed, then gestured at Agatha. “She’s a ghost? Like me? Hello???”

But still none of the guests looked Agatha’s way, and the gentlemen’s laughter had taken over the conversation.

“Hysteria,” Ernest declared. “Who knew ghosts could suffer women’s maladies?”

Fyodor nodded. “Brain fever, da.”

Lenore stepped up to Ernest, holding a finger in his face. “Listen buster, I don’t like your tone, and you do _not_ want me haunting you for all eternity.”

“All right, all right, let’s keep things civil,” Poe interjected.

“Just as civil as someone poisoning one of your guests?” Lenore asked.

Suddenly a loud thud came from the back of the crowd, and just as when Agatha had died, the guests all turned to gape at the fallen body on the floor.

Lenore nudged Agatha with an elbow. “Hopefully that’ll get them off our backs, am I right? But seriously, Ags? We need to talk about the Salem hotties, because _damn_.”

“Did someone say 'hotties’?” Agatha turned to see Oscar approaching them, ignoring the crowd. “That brandy left a bad taste in my mouth, and I’m in need of a different flavor.”

A grin spread over Lenore’s face. “Oh my god, this is _perfect_. Ags, you down to go ghoul-watching with me and Oscar in Salem after this?”

Agatha hadn’t expected death to be like this, but she couldn’t argue that Lenore and Oscar were better company than the rest of the fuddy duddies she’d been stuck with at this party. And since she was already dead, what was there to fear?

“I’d be happy to accompany you,” she said finally. “It’s been many years since I’ve had a racy evening out.”

“And after all, love, you only die once,” Oscar said.

Lenore grabbed both their hands. “Yaaaasssss!”


End file.
